My First, My Last, My Only
by peski0piksi
Summary: How things might have gone differently in the first book, if Peeta was just a little less passive, and Katniss just a little...well, nicer.
1. Chapter 1

It was one o'clock in the morning, and Katniss Everdeen couldn't sleep. Tomorrow she would be in the arena. Tomorrow she could be dead. Conditions were not exactly conducive to a good night's rest, no matter how luxurious the bed. Finally, tired of tossing and turning, she left her room and made her way to the roof of the Training Center. She needed air. She needed to see the sky and the moon on the last night that no one would be hunting her.

The roof was dark, the building's lights turned off for the night, but the city was bright enough on its own to light her way to the railing. She leaned over and watched the crowded streets below. Despite the late hour, there was a party going on. The people of the Capitol were thronging in their garish costumes, eagerly awaiting the oncoming slaughter of twenty three innocent children. As she listened to the music and cheers below, Katniss could feel nothing but disgust.

She turned her gaze to the sky. At least the moon here was the same one she watched at home in District Twelve. Trying to tune out the noise from below, she closed her eyes and let the gentle cool breeze wash over her face and through her hair, which fell free from her usual braid.

"Can't sleep?"

Peeta's voice startled her, but she didn't turn around.

"Can't turn my mind off," she answered as he came to stand next to her.

"Me too."

She glanced over and saw that he was keeping his gaze on the sky, too. His hands rested on the railing, still wrapped in bandages. Guilt washed over her again.

"I really am sorry about your hands," she said.

"It doesn't matter, Katniss," he said. "Portia put some kind of quick-healing cream on them, said they'd be fine by morning. The cuts weren't that deep."

"I'm glad," she said, feeling some relief. At least she wouldn't be sending him into the Games tomorrow already half crippled.

Although, really…why would that be such a horrible thing? He wasn't her friend, she reminded herself. He wasn't her ally. Tomorrow it would be kill or be killed, and she couldn't afford to let herself feel anything but indifference for this boy. She had been forced to spend time with him during training, but there was no reason that needed to be continued now. She had been lax, but she needed to get her defenses back up if she was going to survive.

"I'm cold," she said at the same exact moment he asked, "Were you thinking about your family?"

They both paused in embarrassment, and Katniss was more eager than ever to make her escape. This was just too awkward.

"Sorry," she started again. "I was just saying that it's getting cold up here. I think I'm going to go try and get some sleep." She backed away from the railing and headed for the stairwell.

She got halfway there before his voice called out after her.

"You don't have to do that, you know."

She turned.

"Do what?"

"Run away from me."

"I'm not running away from you," she scoffed. "I told you, I'm getting cold."

Peeta rolled his eyes.

"Please, Katniss. Give me some credit. You're wearing a flannel nightgown. It's sixty-five degrees out here. You're not cold, you just don't want to talk to me."

He crossed his arms, leaned his back against the railing, and looked at her expectantly. She knew he was right, so she gave up the ruse.

"Well, excuse me for not wanting to make nicey-nice tonight with someone who's going to be my mortal enemy tomorrow," she snapped.

"Katniss, I'm not your enemy."

"Like hell you aren't."

Katniss knew she was being harsher than necessary, but she didn't know why, and the confusion of it just added to her aggravation. Peeta dropped his arms and took a step towards her. She could tell he was getting angry, too. Good. She was getting tired of the Mr. Nice Guy act.

"I'm not," he said in a tightly controlled voice. "I would never hurt you."

"Don't be stupid, Peeta," she said. "Of course you would, if I was standing in the way of you going home."

Peeta shook his head, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

"You're wrong."

"Oh, what," she said. "Are you telling me you're planning on getting through without killing anyone, Saint Peeta? You won't last five minutes with an attitude like that."

"I know that," he said in that same clipped voice. "I didn't say I wouldn't kill anyone. I said I wouldn't kill _you_."

"You're delusional! You have no idea what we'll be facing. You may have to…"

"I WON'T!"

"You don't know that!"

"I do! I'd never lay a hand on you!"

"I'm not your friend, Peeta! Despite what Haymitch might have people believe, we're not a team! If you want to get home, you need to stop with this! I'm just another tribute!"

"Not to me, you're not."

"WHY?"

"BECAUSE I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!"

A beat of silence, and then it was if the floodgates had been opened.

"You don't even know," he said, running his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth. "You thought what I told Caesar in that interview was a lie just to get sponsors, but it wasn't, Katniss. It was the truth. I know you barely even knew who I was before the Reaping, I know you've got Gale, but I've been in love with you since we were five! You thought I gave you that bread because I pitied you. Well, I didn't. I gave it to you because I loved you. I would rather die than hurt you. I am _going_ to die trying to protect you!"

He stopped pacing and turned to look at her.

"Do you get it now?" he asked.

Katniss just stood there. She was aware that her mouth was open, her eyes wide. She knew Peeta was waiting for an answer. But she couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. To move a muscle would shatter her into a million little pieces.

He was waiting for an answer, but she couldn't give him one. She could only watch as his blue eyes became glassy with tears.

Finally, he nodded and broke his gaze away from her face.

"Okay."

He walked slowly past her to the door to the stairwell.

"Good luck tomorrow, Katniss," she heard him say, then the click of the door, his heavy footsteps on the stairs.

He was gone, and they would be in the arena before she saw him again.

:::::::::::::::

AN: Bwhahaha! This is going to be a two-parter, so hang in there with me folks.

And I did borrow a few lines directly from the book. It's not mine, it's hers, blah blah blah.

Finally, just wanted to say I'm new to the Hunger Games fandom and I can't tell you how much fun I've had gorging myself on all the wonderful stories here over the past few days. It's so nice to have some pop culture to obsess over again—I've been out of the fandom loop since Jim and Pam got together and Harry killed Voldy. Keep the stories coming, people!


	2. Chapter 2

Peeta walked into his room and slammed the door behind him. Who cared if he woke anyone up? Who cared about anything anymore?

Not bothering with the lights, he crossed the dark room to sit on the end of his bed, facing the wall of windows that looked out over the lights of the Capitol. He hunched over, his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. He fought back the tears that demanded to come. He couldn't afford to cry right now—it would only make him appear even weaker tomorrow.

Why had he even gone up there? He had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying hard not to think about what the morning would bring when he heard her door open and close, her quiet footsteps padding quickly down the hallway outside his door. He knew where she was going, because he had just been considering going up there himself.

He had known that he should leave her alone, that his interview earlier that night had put her even more on edge with him than usual. And Katniss on edge could be, well…dangerous, he thought, looking down ruefully at his bandaged hands. But in the end he hadn't been able to resist the chance to see her alone one last time before the Games. Before they were being hunted.

It had been a mistake. A huge, colossal mistake.

Why had he pushed her? Why couldn't he have just pretended to believe her weak lie, let her go? Why had the need to spend just a few more precious minutes with her been so compelling?

Now she knew everything. _Everything_. Not just that he loved her—he could have lived with that. Hadn't he wanted her to know? Hadn't he, over the years, dreamt of a million different ways to tell her? But now she also knew he was going to try to protect her—sacrifice himself so that she could go home to her family and Gale. She wasn't supposed to know that until after the Games, when she would watch the recaps as Victor.

Now she would be working against him at every turn.

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

_I can't believe I told her._

He flinched internally when he remembered the look on her face. He didn't know why it hurt so much—he had always known she didn't feel the same way about him. But to see it confirmed was like a dagger through his heart.

Taking a deep breath, Peeta tried to gain control. He had to be strong. Just keep it up for a few more days, fight to the end to save her. Then the pain would be over. Not once since Effie Trinket had pulled his name from the Reaping Ball had he allowed himself to indulge in such morbid thoughts, but what did it matter now?

Suddenly, someone was tapping lightly on his door. Peeta froze.

He heard the door unlatch, Katniss' voice.

"Peeta? Can I come in?"

Peeta didn't know what to do. He couldn't face her, but he needed to see her again. He wanted to be angry, but it was Katniss. He could never be truly angry at her. His voice caught in his throat.

Katniss apparently took his silence for permission, because she shut his door quietly and came slowly over to sit next to him on the bed.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

Peeta shook his head, still not trusting himself to speak. He kept his eyes on the floor.

"No, I am," she continued. "I never should have yelled at you like that. You didn't deserve it."

"It's fine," he finally got out. To give his hands something to do, he started to slowly unwind the bandage from his left hand.

"It's not," she insisted, then paused before she continued:

"To be honest, I think the reason I got so angry was because I was really trying to convince myself that what I was saying was true, but I couldn't make myself believe it."

"What do you mean?" He let the bandage fall to the floor and started on his right hand.

"I could never hurt you, either, Peeta."

He finally looked at her, and she gave him a small, sad smile.

"I already knew that," he told her, and it was true. As stressful and awkward as the last few days had been, they had spent real time together. Formed some kind of strange bond. And Katniss was no cold-blooded killer, no matter how tough she liked to act.

"You obviously have a much higher opinion of me than I do," she said.

He shrugged and looked back down at his hands. Obviously. He noticed with indifference that the cuts were already almost completely gone—only small pink lines remained to prove they had once existed.

"There are a couple of things you've got wrong about me, though," Katniss said, and pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged on the bed. Her knee was touching the side of his leg now, and it felt like fire burning through his pajama pants. She really had no idea…

"Oh, yeah? What do I have wrong?" he asked. He couldn't imagine—he was pretty sure he knew everything about her. Everything that mattered, anyway.

"Well, for starters, Gale really isn't my boyfriend."

Peeta's heart sped up, just a little.

"Really? I thought…"

"He's my best friend, and I know everyone pairs us off automatically because we spend so much time together, but it's never been like that between us."

Peeta took that in. Interesting. But then he remembered—he had seen first-hand the way Gale looked at her sometimes. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Does _he_ know that?"

Even in the dimly lit room, he could see her blush as she ducked her head.

"Yes, he knows. I mean, I guess I have sometimes kind of thought that he…" she trailed off for a second. "But he's heard my ideas on love and marriage often enough to know not to expect anything."

This got more intriguing all the time.

"Okay, I have to ask. What _are_ your 'ideas on love and marriage'?"

Peeta really could not believe he was sitting here having this conversation with Katniss Everdeen, of all people.

"I've always knows that I don't want children," she said. "I mean, I know I'm only sixteen, but boyfriends eventually lead to husbands, and husbands lead to children. And I'm never having kids, not as long as there's a possibility they could get reaped. Not as long as things stay the way they are, with children starving in the streets…"

She cut herself off here, and Peeta knew it was because talking like that could lead to trouble.

"Anyway," she continued. "I just thought it would be best to never even start down that path. It's easier that way."

He thought about what she had said, and it made sense. But…

"If things were different, would you want those things with Gale?" he asked tentatively.

She looked at him.

"No."

He nodded and looked away, out of the window to the lights of the Capitol. He wasn't sure how he felt about this new information. He knew she was trying to soften the blow—that it wasn't that she didn't want him, she just didn't want anybody at all. It didn't leave much hope, but somehow knowing she wasn't with Hawthorne did ease his heart a little.

"So no boyfriends, ever?" he asked.

He felt her shrug.

"I've never had time for all of that, anyway," she said. "Most of the time it's all I can do to keep food on the table and clothes on our backs. I just never really let myself think about it."

He nodded again. He could understand the way she felt, even if he didn't agree. What was the point of surviving if you just ended up alone? What would you want to survive _for_? And just because you got married didn't mean you had to have children…

He sighed, remembering where he was. These choices had all been taken away from them the moment they had been chosen for the Games. None of it mattered anymore.

They sat in silence for a while, both of them just staring out the window, lost in thought. Then Peeta heard her take a deep breath, as though what she was about to say was going to take a lot of courage.

"There's something else you've got wrong," she said.

"What?" Peeta asked softly.

When Katniss didn't answer right away, he turned his head to look at her. To his surprise, he saw that she was blushing again.

"It's just…" she finally started. "You told Caesar in your interview, and then you said it again upstairs…you said that I didn't know you before the Reaping. That's not true."

"Oh," said Peeta, somehow disappointed. He looked away again. "I know…there was the thing with the bread that time, but I…"

"No," she interrupted. "No. I mean, yes, that's when it started. And I don't think you'll ever know how important that was to me, but that's not all that I meant."

Peeta waited in silence for her to continue. He could sense her discomfort, and he was afraid if he spoke she would retreat back into her shell. He didn't even dare look at her.

"After that day," she finally continued, "I wanted so badly to thank you, but I could never work up the nerve. I kept waiting for you to be alone, but you never were. You always had this crowd of friends around you. And you were a town kid, and I was from the Seam, and I don't know…I was just never able to do it.

But I guess I had gotten into the habit of…watching you. All these years, Peeta, I haven't been able to _not_ notice you. It's like, I always know when you walk into a room, and I can feel when you leave it. And I think most of the time I wasn't even aware that I was doing it. But I do know you. I know a lot about you."

Peeta's heart was now pounding so loudly he thought she must be able to hear it.

"Like what?" he whispered.

"Just little things, mostly. Like how I knew about you placing second in that wrestling tournament. Or how you always double-knot your shoelaces. Or that you've been best friends with Wilem Cole since forever. Or…you know that blue shirt you have? With the stripes here and here?"

He turned to see her gesturing at her shoulders.

"Yeah?"

"I'm pretty sure that's your favorite shirt, because you wear it a little more often than the others."

She grinned at him sheepishly, and Peeta couldn't help but laugh. He turned to her, putting one knee up on the bed.

"You keep track of the shirts I wear?" he asked, delighted.

"Well, it's not like I keep a chart in my locker or anything!" Katniss said defensively. "I just…noticed."

Peeta laughed again. "Well, you're right. That is my favorite shirt."

"See?" she said. "I know these things."

"I wonder how come I never noticed you noticing me?" Peeta reflected. God knows he had been watching for it.

Katniss shrugged.

"Like I said, I didn't even notice myself doing it. When I came out and told Haymitch about that wrestling tournament…I mean, I didn't even know I knew that."

They both laughed again, and then silence fell over them. Peeta had a feeling there was more she wanted to say, but he wasn't going to push her. He knew she needed to work up to it, and sure enough, a minute or two later she spoke.

"There are other things I know about you. More important things."

She was shy again, looking down at her lap where her fingers were twisted together. So as gently as he could, he asked, "Like what?"

"I know that you're kind, and you're generous. And brave. I know you never participate when the merchant kids go after the Seam kids, and that it kind of disgusts you when they do it. You treat everyone around you with respect, and everyone who knows you likes you."

Peeta felt his face grow hot, but Katniss wasn't finished.

"I know…" her voice was very quiet now. "I know your mother hits you sometimes."

Suddenly her hand was on his face, her thumb caressing his cheek where the rolling pin had left its mark so many years before. Peeta closed his eyes, every fiber of his being concentrated on that one spot, but she withdrew her hand almost immediately.

"Your father is one of the kindest and most generous men in the District, and you take after him in a lot of ways. But you're stronger than he is."

Peeta looked into her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because if you had children, you would never allow _anyone_ to hurt them."

He inhaled sharply. How did she know…he never even let himself think about that. It was his deepest, darkest secret—the resentment he felt sometimes towards his father. And here was this girl, who he had been sure never gave him a second thought, and she _knew_ this. She knew so much…despite his greatest efforts to suppress it, hope flared hot in his chest.

Katniss mistook his silence for anger.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I never should have said that about your father. He's a good man."

"No, it's okay," he assured her. "You're not wrong."

Katniss nodded and looked away to the windows, lost in thought. Peeta couldn't help staring at her profile, longing to reach out and run his fingers through her long dark hair, to caress her cheek. The lights of the city illuminated her face, her beautiful grey eyes. Then he noticed the corner of her mouth turn up in a smile as she turned to look at him.

"There's something else I know about you," she said, suddenly playful.

Peeta couldn't help smiling in return.

"Oh, no. What now?"

"Lissy Myers has the world's biggest crush on you."

"What?" Peeta laughed incredulously. "She does not!"

"She does too! You're just too modest to notice, and too nice to tell her to get lost. So she just tags around after you all the time."

"No," said Peeta, still laughing. "That's not true!"

"Yes it is!" Katniss was laughing now, too, and then to Peeta's amazement, she launched into an impressively accurate imitation of the said Lissy Myers.

She clasped her hands together in front of her chest, looked up at him beseechingly, and cried, "Oh, Peeta!" in a high-pitched, sing-song voice. "Will you carry my books for me? They're so _heavy_! Oh, Peeta! If I don't get to sit next to you at lunch, I think I might just die!"

Peeta was laughing so hard now it hurt. And underneath it all, he loved her more than he ever had before, but what came next was as much a surprise to him as it was to her.

"Oh, Peet…" Katniss started, but she never finished what she was going to say because before he knew what he was doing, Peeta had leaned forward to silence her with a kiss.

HGHGHGHGHGHGHG

AN: Yikes! Sorry, folks. First time I uploaded this I forgot to include my author's note. Yes, there will be more. Although originally planned as a two-shot, this part just got too unwieldy so I decided to break it into three. It's more symmetrical that way, anyway. I'll get the next part up as soon as I can. (We'll be going back to Katniss' POV for part three.)


	3. Chapter 3

It took Katniss' brain a few moments to catch up to what was happening. One second, she and Peeta had been laughing together (itself an unbelievable fact), and then the next thing she knew he was kissing her.

This was not what she had come down here for.

After he had left her on the roof, and after she had regained ability to move, breathe, and think, Katniss had been overwhelmed by a wave of guilt and despair. She realized she had seriously wounded Peeta. Peeta who was always so gentle and kind. Peeta, the boy with the bread who had once saved her life. Peeta, who loved her.

Katniss had spent the last few days since the Reaping building a wall of defense around herself, so tall and so thick that no one, especially Peeta, would be able to breach it. It wasn't hard—she already had a good foundation that she had been working on in the years since her father had died. But what she was just now, in that moment, realizing was that Peeta was already so close to her, that no matter how strong she built that wall, it was too late—he was already inside the boundaries.

She wasn't sure when exactly that had happened.

She couldn't bear to leave things like this between them. She couldn't let her last memory of him before the arena be that look of pain he wore when she couldn't give him an answer. She couldn't let their last words be spoken in anger.

So she had come downstairs to talk to him. She hadn't been sure what to say, beyond the fact that she was sorry, but as it turned out, Peeta was very easy to talk to once she had deliberately let down her guard. And so she had found herself telling him all sorts of things, some of which she hadn't even realized herself until the moment they left her mouth. She had even started teasing him, something she only ever did with Prim, and very occasionally Gale.

Then he kissed her.

Before she really had a chance to decide what to do about it, or even close her eyes, he had pulled back. He hadn't gone far, though—his mouth hovered only inches from her own, and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. His blue eyes stared into hers in question, and she knew he was waiting for her to make the next move, to either push him away or pull him back.

After what seemed an eternity but was probably only a second or two, she put her hands on his chest to push him away. So it came as a surprise when instead her hands fisted into his t-shirt and her lips fell back onto his. Her eyes drifted closed as his hands came up to cup her face. They stayed like that for a few moments, her clinging to his shirt, him holding her with incredible gentleness. Then without really knowing what she was doing, Katniss parted her lips. With a small sigh of pleasure, Peeta deepened the kiss, his lips warm and soft on hers, and put his arms around her to pull her closer.

The next time they came up for air, Katniss found herself lying back on the bed, Peeta hovering over her as he finally left her lips to place gentle kisses on her eyes, her nose, her cheeks. He seemed determined to kiss every inch of her, and that thought sent a surge of warmth all over her body.

She tried to focus. She needed to think…they needed to stop. This wasn't right—they were going into the arena tomorrow and—

"Oh!" Katniss gasped as Peeta moved down to place a soft kiss behind her ear, and now his lips were moving along her jaw and down her neck and his hand was moving up her leg and she needed…she needed—

"Peeta!" she finally managed.

He stopped immediately.

"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes anxious. "Is that too much? I…"

"No, don't be sorry," she interrupted. "I just…I need a second."

"Alright," he said and let himself fall down beside her, but he kept his arm protectively across her waist, and he couldn't seem to resist giving her shoulder one last kiss. They were both breathing heavily, and Katniss could feel his gaze on her as she stared at the ceiling, trying to gather her wits.

This was…unexpected. Nice (_very_ nice in fact) but unexpected. She was suddenly very aware that they were two teenagers, in bed together, unsupervised and in a state of partial undress. She was sure her mother would not approve. But the fact was…they were also two teenagers who would be entering a fight to the death contest the very next morning. They were two sixteen year-old who were almost certain to not see seventeen. Surely normal rules didn't apply?

"Sorry," Peeta said, breaking into her thoughts. "I guess I'm kind of in violation of your no boyfriends policy, aren't I?"

Katniss turned her head to look at him and smiled.

"I think considering what's going to happen to us in the morning, we can consider that policy to be null and void."

He smiled, and Katniss was suddenly struck by how handsome he was. His were not the dark, rugged good looks of Gale. Peeta was everything light and open. Sandy blonde hair which Katniss now realized was considerably in disarray thanks to the explorations of her own two hands. A smile that could probably charm President Snow himself. Eyes so blue you could get lost in them for hours.

Katniss forced herself to look away. She knew, on some primal level, that if she allowed Peeta to kiss her right now, she would not be able to stop things again. Not that Peeta would ever force her to do anything she didn't want to do, oh no. So far he had been scrupulously careful not to breach any boundaries, not letting his hands roam into any forbidden zones. He really was a perfect gentleman.

_Probably, if I want him to do anything, I'll have to tell him straight out._

She could not believe that thought had just crossed her mind. What in the world had come over her?

"What are you thinking about?" Peeta asked, his voice low. She could feel his breath warm on her neck, and it sent chills down her spine.

It occurred to her that if she told him what she was really thinking about, his head would probably explode. This made her want to laugh but she fought it back, fearful of hurting his feelings.

Without directly answering his question, she turned back to him and asked, "Peeta, have you ever…you know…_been_ with a girl?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

"Me? No. Never," he said, and she knew immediately he was telling the truth. She let out a sigh of relief.

Peeta propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down at her.

"Why, have you ever…done anything?"

She shook her head.

"I'd never even kissed a boy until tonight," she confessed.

"Really?" he said, obviously delighted. "I thought for sure Gale would have at least _tried_ something."

"No," Katniss shrugged. "Never."

Peeta just smiled at her for a moment, then he said with a shrug of his own, "his loss." Then he bent down to kiss her softly, just once. When he pulled back, Katniss looked into his eyes. She could see nothing but love and adoration shining there.

She gathered all her courage.

"Peeta?"

"Hmm?" He brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead.

"Will you make love to me?"

To her surprise and dismay, her question made Peeta pull away. He looked at her seriously for a moment, and then said, "I need to ask…why?"

Katniss was baffled and hurt by his response, and Peeta must have seen something of this in her face because before she could speak he quickly interjected.

"It's not that I don't want to. God, Katniss, you have no idea how badly I want to. And my answer is yes. Definitely yes, no matter what your answer is. But…I just need to know…do you just not want to die without having experienced that? Or is it…is it because you want to experience it with _me_?"

Katniss took her time before answering. She should have known it would come to this—he wanted to know exactly what, if anything, she felt for him. To be anything less than completely honest in this moment would be unforgiveable.

Was this really about losing her virginity before she died? She didn't think so. Unbidden, Gales face swam before her eyes. She really didn't want to think about him right now, but Gale was the closest alternate to Peeta she could come up with. She found him physically attractive, she trusted him, and she loved him dearly as a friend. If he was here, would she be considering what she was considering doing with Peeta?

The answer came to her swiftly and surely.

Katniss reached up to cup Peeta's cheek, eager to erase the anxiousness in his eyes.

"It's you, Peeta," she said. "I think I've always felt some kind of connection between us, but I've always fought against it, for a lot of reasons. But I don't really see a point in fighting it any more, do you?"

Peeta shook his head, his eyes glowing. She moved her hand to the back of his head and pulled him down to her.

"I want _you_ to be my first," she whispered, and kissed one eye shut. "And my last," she kissed his other eye, and then she waited until his eyes opened to stare straight into hers. She wanted him to know she meant what she was about to say.

"You are my only, Peeta."

His usually cool and mild blue eyes blazed, and then he was kissing her with a passion she hadn't known was possible.

For a while, they existed alone in the world together.

HGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGH

"Peeta?"

It was the first words either of them had spoken for quite some time. Katniss was snuggled up to him, her head resting on his shoulder, her arm wrapped across his waist. Peeta was holding her tightly to him, rubbing lazy circles on the back of her arm. Katniss could not remember ever feeling so comfortable and so safe.

"Katniss?" Peeta answered her, and she could hear his voice rumbling deep in his chest.

"I'm sorry I've been so mean to you the past few days."

Peeta burst into laughter.

"I would have thought it was strange if you had been otherwise, Katniss. It's okay."'

"Excuse me? Are you calling me mean?" Katniss pulled away to give him an offended look.

"No! Well, I mean…come on, Katniss. You must know you're not normally the warm and fuzzy type, right?"

"Humph. _You_ seem to like me okay."

"I do. I like you a lot, because I know how sweet you are underneath that prickly exterior."

"Now you're calling me sweet? Ugh, I don't know which is worse."

Peeta laughed again.

"Sorry, Katniss, but anyone who has seen you with your sister has to know you're really just a big softy."

Katniss sighed, knowing she couldn't really argue with this. Prim had always been the biggest chink in her armor.

"Well, anyway, I'm sorry I was extra mean to you, then. I've just been scared."

"I know. Besides," he grinned cheekily, "I think you've more than made up for it."

She slapped him lightly on the arm.

"Shut up," she growled.

He laughed again, and Katniss laid her head down on his chest.

"I can hear your heartbeat," Katniss said with a bit of wonder.

"Oh, yeah? What's it saying, 'Kat-niss, Kat-niss, Kat-niss'?"

She laughed softly.

"Something like that."

"I like your laugh," he said. "You should do it more often."

"I think I will as long as I'm around you," she answered. It was true—they had laughed a lot in the last hour or so, which, she thought, was pretty odd when you considered the situation they were in. It was like some small form of hysteria had come over them both.

And, well, some things were just funny. It had been the first time for both of them, and it seemed that awkward and embarrassing moments were inevitable under those circumstances. But she and Peeta had found themselves laughing and giggling through it all instead of letting it bother them. Katniss, looking back, thought those fits of laughter were some of her favorite memories of the whole thing.

"Hey," Peeta said now. "Can you imagine Haymitch's face if he walked in on us right now?"

Katniss snickered. "Or Effie."

That cracked them both up.

"Manners, people! Manners!" Peeta cried in an excellent mimic of Effie's Capitol accent.

Eventually their laughter tapered off into giggles, and then into silence. Katniss felt Peeta kiss the top of her head.

"Peeta," she said, pulling away slightly to rest her head on the pillow next to him. He turned on his side, too, so they were lying face to face.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered.

He reached out to stroke her hair, and she could see sadness in his eyes.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Stick together for as long as we can, I guess."

She nodded.

"And if we both make it to the end?"

"I don't think the odds of that happening are very high, Katniss."

To her frustration, she could feel tears welling in her eyes.

"I know," she choked out.

Peeta pulled her into him and held on as if for dear life.

"One day at a time, okay?" he said, and his voice rough as though he too were fighting off tears. "We'll figure something out. We have to."

Katniss buried her head into his shoulder and tried to regain control. She didn't want to waste what time she had left sobbing over something that couldn't be changed. Peeta was running his fingers through her hair, whispering words of love and courage in her ear, and she used his voice to anchor herself.

Eventually she emerged to give him a watery smile.

"You're right. We'll think of something."

It was a lie, and they both knew it, but there was no point in dwelling on it. Peeta kissed her on her forehead.

"We should try to sleep," he said. "We're going to need our wits about us, and there's only a few hours left."

"Okay," she said.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied, and they shared one last lingering kiss.

Then they settled back down together, their limbs entwined, a million things left unsaid.

HGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

A/N: Sorry, folks but I cannot for the life of me write smut, so you'll just have to use your imaginations (which I'm sure can do a better job than anything I would come up with.) For some reason the first time I write the word "throbbing" or worse, "member, manhood, erection," or any variation thereof, I dissolve into a fit of giggles and can go no further. I'm giggling right now, as a matter of fact. You would think I was a twelve year-old boy and not an I-won't-tell-you-how-old (because it's way too damn old to be writing fanfic about YA literature) grown-ass married woman. So as much as I admire those who are able to write smut, and as much as I enjoy reading it, you won't find it in my stories.

Also, sorry about Katniss. I know I kind of turned her into Ms. Kindhearted Talks-A-Lot, which is way out of character. I can't help it, I just go where the fluff leads me.

Anyway, please let me know what you think one way or another.


	4. Author's Note

Author's Note:

Hello all! A few reviews and a large number of story alerts have let me know that people expect more to be added to this story. Sorry, it does end here. But if it helps, I will tell you that in my mind it ends up in the same place as the original—with the berries. The Games themselves would obviously play out differently with Katniss and Peeta working as a team from the beginning, but I don't really have any interest in writing about that. I have several other Hunger Games stories running around my head and I'm eager to move on to those.

Thank you to all for the reviews and alerts and favoriting! I will confess to checking my email umpteen times a day to look for more and I get a little thrill every time one shows up.


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